Kermit

The Endless Summer hydrangea didn't do much this year. Just a few blooms. It did produce some excitement this afternoon, however, with the appearance of this tree frog, a rarity in this neighborhood.
Ribbit.

No shoes, no shoulders, no service

Our favorite fisherman, Gary the Green Heron, made himself as small and as still as possible this morning, patiently coiled and waiting for breakfast to swim by his island perch. The winds blustered and the temperatures dropped to the 50s and to make matters worse, breakfast was not being served at this time.
Eventually, he stalked off. He could have also shrugged his shoulders. . . if he had any.

From Phoenix

Our neighbor's boyhood pal showed up in the cul-de-sac tonight for a twilight ride with Lee. The bikers headed out on a beautiful evening, with the promise of a spectacular sunset, courtesy of a smokey haze in the atmosphere.
Lee's friend lives in Phoenix, but it's a bit crispy there right now, so he takes a 10-week hiatus to Minnesota, riding here on the hog. Sort of a reverse snowbird. Under the leather vest is a Beatles t-shirt, and he's sporting an Apple watch. Very cool dude, this friend of Lee's. A pleasure to meet him.

What is it?

Stan's sister Sosie is back at it, sorting, cleaning, organizing at Aunt Marilyn's Estate in Ohio. Among today's topics was this object of art. And Sosie knows exactly what it is. Do you? (Hint: Aunt Marilyn was not a champion golfer. . . as far as we know.)

Sosie writes:
Dear friends who appreciate old things with provenance,
Today we remove all things from the dining room before "Paint and Plaster Kevin" arrives in the morning. I pause now to share with you this celery jar in a tarnished, triple-plated silver holder.
How would I know what it is? Great Aunt Willella Shearer Kennedy (1886 to 1981) left a rolled-up note in the jar:
Celery jar
Given to Mother as a wedding present
Given to me Xmas 1940 by Mother -she said- "Choose something of mine."
WSK

In 133 years (Ella Baldwin married William Otway Shearer June 27, 1882), the jar has not broken. The gilded cut edge has not chipped. How much bubble wrap do I need????
Solveig

Hey Katie! It's raining out here and we're wet and hungry!

We have received at least two inches of rain here in Shakopee and more is on the way. It's pouring out, we've been at the neighbor's house working the sump pump before it rises to the basement level. Rain cuts into dinner time at the bird feeder, because Katie brings it in to prevent mildew forming on the seeds.
Meanwhile, raindrops gather on the bracket and the finches flit in and out, causing some anxiety for Katie, who feels bad whenever any of God's creatures are hungry.
Soon the rain will pass, and the feeder will reappear. Promise.

Some assembly required

Before

After (We hope)

Built in eastern Canada, the spiffy wall bed and storage towers were loaded on a truck near Quebec a couple weeks ago and shipped 3,000 miles across the country. The pallet of boxes has now been delivered to the garage at our winter apartment in southern California. There it sits, awaiting our November arrival. We tracked the purchase across the border, then from state to state until if finally arrived at a trucking center in San Bernardino. 

Costco had a killer August sale that we couldn't ignore, so we had to buy it now.

The fold-up wall bed (Sometimes called a Murphy Bed) should allow for lots of space for day time activities. But first it needs to be assembled. Here's hoping our experience with IKEA products qualifies us to put this puzzle together. On-line commenters warn that it won't be that easy to do. We'll see.

A Wedding in the Woods

It's a risky business.
An outdoor wedding in northern Minnesota. You take your chances.  Joe and Heather rolled the dice and came up sevens last night. The hot humid Saturday afternoon cooled down to an acceptable level, the wind calmed after gusting away some table settings, the shade trees blocked the sun over the audience exactly in time for the service, the mosquitoes never showed up and the thunderstorm held off until way past midnight.
It was a wonderful evening in the woods. Classic. Memorable. Enjoyable. Perfect.
We got up this morning for an early walk through Deerwood to see if anything was still around since we lived here 65 years ago.  We found the city hall, auditorium and library building on Forest Street. The sturdy edifice was constructed from handsplit stones in 1936 and still looks as solid as, well, a rock. Looks like it will be good for many, many years.
We wish even better for Joe and Heather.

On the guest list: Tasha, Jennifer, Stan and Kathleen

We're here! Let the fun begin...

House is gone, lot for sale?

We've checked into the Country Inn Suites in beautiful downtown Deerwood, Minnesota, got the wifi secret password from the clerk, but do you know what? Nobody in town has every heard of the Rolfsruds. Ok. It has been 65 years since Mom and Dad abandoned their tiny home out on County Road 133 near its intersection with 10 and moved away to Alexandria, but wouldn't you think?
There's not a trace of the old homestead with its stone fireplace, we drove by to see, and found nothing but a vacant lot with the familiar topography. Was there a fire? Where did everything go? Is the lot for sale? Gentle breezes blowing through the shady pines, a northern comfort on this hot day, gave up no secrets.
Down below is the little lake, here are the weedy remains of a driveway, the overgrown trees the big girls played beneath with their little brother and new sister.

The babysitter lived here, about 300 yards from our house.

There's a dock way across the little lake where somebody now has a summer home. Dad had a rustic cabin and typewriter there, struggling to write his early work, commuting there in a little red row boat. When it got cold, he retreated to a shed beside the garage that also had the bunnies mother was raising along with the kids.
But it's all gone now, just the memories.
Four miles away they're starting some new memories, new beginnings at the outdoor marriage of Joe and Heather. We drove by this afternoon, there's a huge tent set for dinner and a bunch of white chairs optimistically placed under the blue sky where they will plight their troth.
Festivities start at 5 p.m., enough left now for nap and a peek at the PGA.

Dad rowed across this lake to a rustic cabin on the far shore.

Keeping up with the Kasichs

The International Falls retired publisher is enjoying his summer at his home on Rainy Lake. Fishing is good, the beer is cold and he's finished replacing the dock that was taken out by record floods.  Readers may recall the ambitious dock build Wayne Kasich completed this spring, thanks to a lot of determination, elbow grease and help from his no good brother-in-law. The big lake, with its big weather, requires a brawny docking system, no lightweights here.
Wayne's work may be done, but the neighbor is just getting started. He apparently has no local relatives who work for beer, he's hired out the project. Here's Wayne's brief report, filed, we assume, from a chaise on his back yard with a cold one at hand.

"Our neighbor's hired dock builders showed up a few weeks ago. Last evening they boarded their barge and headed up the lake to get the fifth load of rock for the cribs. It's an hour run up and two hours back (or three beers). Unloading takes about three hours.
"We figured a guy could buy a new extended-cab pickup truck with what the rebuilt dock will cost. Insurance doesn't cover docks in this country."